


the culmination

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Extra Treat, M/M, Mjolnir as Matchmaker, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-05-16 05:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19311433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: A hammer-bound alien soulmate doesn’t sound so bad.





	the culmination

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkyRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyRose/gifts).



> Happy MCUEx, SkyRose!

Steve’s mind should turn many ways after defeating the universe's greatest threat.

Emotional ways. Thanos is gone, and the people they lost are back. Danvers smiles when she slips the glove off her hand. They had one in fourteen million odds, that’s what Strange told Tony. At least they were able to do something right by Natasha. It’s not enough, it will never be enough, but they did it. For her, for Vision, for everyone who isn't here.

Practical ways. Half of all life can’t poof back into existence after five years without consequences. How will a society who thought they had to move on integrate with people they thought they lost? What will happen to people who lost their jobs to others? Or to families torn apart and rebuilt? To owned homes left abandoned, to money no longer there?

Physical ways. Steve can’t remember one full night's sleep in the past five years. His own tiredness is a weight between his shoulders. Steve can’t even bring himself to join the others in celebration. He’s grateful for how well Bucky knows him. His best friend squeezes his shoulder with an unspoken promise to catch up when they both have more to say.

Instead, Steve’s mind turns towards the past. To the living room at Stark Tower and his hands around Mjolnir’s handle. To the budge of the hammer in his grasp, and the jolt that sprang through his body. Something hot but not unpleasant. Like electricity buzzing under his skin..

Steve let the handle go immediately. He laughed it off and left Mjolnir where it sat. Steve could have lifted it. He could have gotten oohs and ahhs from his friends and stammered indignance from Thor. But the shock of Mjolnir's presence was enough.

From the couch, Thor’s smile slacked. He frowned at the hammer, and laughed weakly when Steve let go. Steve assumed Thor went right on believing he was the only one who could wield Mjolnir. It was better that way.

But Steve would be lying if he said he’d never thought about it afterwards. Especially after watching Vision wield Thor’s hammer like it weighed nothing. Steve wondered what it would be like to lift the weapon and use it. The power he’s seen flow from Thor through the weapon. Thunder in the sky, thunder and lightning, the whole nine yards.

Steve dreamed about what Mjolnir would feel like between his fingers. If the handle would feel warm from Thor’s grip when he seized it. If wielding Mjolnir’s power would feel like power specific to Thor. Would Steve know it was Thor’s strength inside him, and would he be able to contain that power. And what would Thor think? Steve dreamed about the look on his face.

When he woke, pieces of memory shivering through his fingers, he groaned at the hardness it his shorts. Steve wrote it off to needing to get out more.

It’s only now, in the aftermath, that Steve realizes the dreams were not random. Neither were thoughts about what he would do if he ever got the opportunity to wield the hammer again. Even after Mjolnir's destruction, Steve’s thoughts returned to the hammer. He thought about what he would do if he had the chance to wield the weapon. How it would feel.

Steve's thoughts returned to Thor too. Always to Thor.

Thor looks at Steve across the dust remains of Thanos' forces. More specifically, he looks at Mjolnir held at Steve’s side. Thor is breathing hard, Stormbreaker slung over his shoulder. Despite the fight, his beard remains in a perfect braid. When their eyes meet, Steve realizes this is the most lucid he’s seen Thor since his return.

Then, Thor licks his lips and everything changes.

“Later,” Steve says. He doesn’t know what he’s promising, or what Thor is thinking. Steve's insides are a jumble of tired relief.

The handle of the hammer moves with a deep-rooted tremor.

Thor nods. In a low voice, he echoes, “Later.”

***

"Later" happens in Steve's Brooklyn apartment. The local team will reconvene in a week for final debrief and instructions on life after Thanos. Steve has known war for most of his life, but right now he can't imagine another one. Not after what they all survived.

They will also discuss the plan for returning the stones to their original timeline. Steve assumes it will be a combination of himself, Sam, and Bucky. Bruce will helm the revamped Time-GPS, as Tony put it.

Thor may join them if he hasn't gone off-world yet or returned to New Asgard. Steve isn't sure what Thor's plan is, except that it involves being here now in Steve's apartment.

They make polite conversation, but Thor has never been good at putting on pretenses. Every minute or so, his eyes return to Mjolnir dangling from Steve's fingers. The handle is warm in Steve's grasp. It's like Thor just held it, but he didn't.

Steve offers the hammer to Thor with a smile. "I knew back at Tony's, before Ultron. I don't know why I didn't tell you. I'm sorry."

"I knew too," Thor says. The words make Steve shiver.

Steve has never had a reaction like this to Thor. It isn't that Thor isn't attractive. He is, but Thor was never… Thor was _Thor_. It was never a possibility. Except when Steve thought about Mjolnir.

But it hits Steve so clearly now. Lightning through his veins. The peal of an oncoming storm. A stiff breeze that shakes Steve to his extremities.

Thor's gaze rests on Steve from across the living room. "You feel it, don't you?" he observes. "It's everywhere. It consumes you."

"Is this what it's like for you?" Steve asks. His voice croaks out weaker than expected.

"At times," Thor replies. "I feel its power and its lineage. It sings to me of days long past, of ancestors I will never meet until I step through the doors of Valhalla. But when you hold it, it sings to me of you."

It takes Steve a moment to realize he's forgotten to breathe.

Steve has felt attraction before, of course. This is different. The sound of Thor's breath echoes through Steve's ears. His mismatched eyes seem to swallow every inch of Steve's body. Even Thor's heartbeat throbs through the handle of the great hammer.

Inside Steve's track pants, his cock begins to swell. Thor's mouth curls like he somehow knows the exact moment when Steve's interest betrays itself.

Steve wants to taste Thor's smirk. He pictures Thor's girth settling on top of him. The rasp of Thor's beard tickling Steve's tension-tight throat.

"I'd like to give you all those things," Thor says. "May I?" Steve blinks.

Steve should decline. This is crazy, and he doesn't even know what's causing it. Thor himself? The relief of the final battle won? Or is it actually Mjolnir pulling them together like two halves of a whole?

But Steve used up his last reserves of restraint the past five years. Keeping up a brave face. Telling his support groups and his friends that life had to move on. Steve doesn't have any strength left for hesitation. He's tired, and he wants too much to fight it. "Do it," Steve says.

Thor almost puts Steve through a wall when he proceeds. He is all or nothing in everything he does, for better or worse. Thor has been this way since Steve first met him trying to impale Tony on any tree in his way. A thing like Thor does not start slow. Steve is still overwhelmed by the jump from permission to inability to breathe.

Steve’s back aches against the wall. Thor’s hands are in his, scratching Steve’s palms with his fingerless gloves. Steve fights back with a grunt that gets lost somewhere between Thor’s lips. He barely hears himself breathe, and he definitely can’t hear himself think. Thor is everywhere - his lips, his breath, his hands forcing Steve’s next to his head.

Steve’s teeth sink into Thor’s lip. Thor’s growl rumbles against him, but the distraction is enough for Steve to free his hands. He shoves the oversized sweatshirt off Thor’s shoulders. Thor shifts to help him before his gloved hand returns to Steve’s jaw. He urges Steve’s head back, angled, so deep - Steve gasps. The sensation of being tasted echoes between his legs. He’s impossibly hard already, and too close to Thor to hide it.

Thor shifts against him, thick thigh between Steve’s legs. Steve goes slack with a groan. Sensation sizzles up Steve's spine, and he barely notices Thor’s grin against his jaw. “You can’t help yourself, can you?” Thor's voice hits him like an electric shock.

“Don’t start,” Steve says, already short of breath. He struggles with the hem of Thor’s t-shirt. It snags on a curve of Thor’s belly. Steve tugs and twists with a huff. “Take this off.”

Thor’s assenting hum precedes the easy removal of his shirt.

It’s the first time Steve really sees Thor since the team's rift five years ago. In all honesty, given Thor’s clothing choices, Steve thought he was bigger. Thor's rounded belly folds over the waist of his sweatpants. Twin, plush mounds sink where wood-hard pectorals once lay flat. But Thor's swollen stomach maintains the firm lines of his strength. He is still powerful. Still Thor.

Thor worries a lip, his one good eye tracing Steve’s downturned face. “Your turn?” he suggests.

Steve’s mouth tips at a corner. “Nah,” he says. “I’m good like this.” He winds arms around Thor’s waist and slips hands under his sweats. With a press, he urges Thor to step forward.

Steve groans at the sensation of being set so tight against the wall. His fingers splay through the expanse of softness of Thor’s lower back.

“ _You’re_ good like this,” Thor mutters, “but you didn’t ask how I-”

Steve certainly did not ask. He makes this clear by snatching a kiss before Thor can finish the thought. Thor snorts, but he seems content to let Steve win this round.

Thor's braided beard tickles Steve’s jaw. Steve lets his head falls back when Thor descends hungrily to his throat. Thor’s softer body gives against Steve's with every breath. Steve isn’t sure whether he’s closer to being pushed through the wall or swallowed up by Thor's skin. His fingers fist in Thor’s hair.

“Oh god,” Steve whispers. His gut turns liquid-hot, early wetness jut against the inside of his pants. His arousal nudges against Thor’s thigh.

Thor shifts to set a heavy hand against the tented front of Steve’s slacks. The heel of his palm grinds down, and Steve’s knees nearly collapse. He turns against Thor’s cheek, warm breaths through Thor’s beard.

Thor hums at the reaction and nudges his nose against Steve’s. “Is it your turn yet?” he asks. His hand glides off the front of Steve’s pants and tugs instead on Steve’s t-shirt.

Steve tears his t-shirt over his head. He doesn't get the chance to straighten back up before Thor is on him again. Thor's hands are _everywhere._ On Steve’s neck. On his shoulders. His collarbone. His chest. Drawing down his abdomen. Tracing his sides. A gloved fist dips under the waist of Steve’s pants.

Steve doesn’t need convincing. He shoves at Thor’s sweatpants until they finally manage to cross the heft of his hips. Thor’s cock is thick and curls eagerly up towards his belly.

“See what you’ve done,” Thor chides. Steve shouldn't indulge him, but a sigh is off his lips before he can stop himself. With a smirk, Thor cups Steve’s cheek in a hand.

Steve is quick to act, snatching the fingerless glove off Thor before he has time to react. Thor’s hand is soft and pale beneath, the fingers a deeper tan than the once-covered palm. Steve sets his lips inside Thor’s hand, his nose nudging Thor’s splayed fingers.

Thor looks on quietly while Steve peels his other glove off. He plays fingers across Steve’s lips, and Steve opens them for him. His tongue steals a taste as Thor’s other hand tests his chest. Steve’s nipple, already pebble-hard, stings for Thor’s touch.

Thor’s mouth quirks. “I believe-”

Steve shoves his own pants and shorts down before Thor can finish the sentence. Close as they are, Steve’s cock can’t spring free without jutting right against Thor’s belly. Steve groans into Thor’s hand.

“Captain.” Thor sounds ravaged, but they’ve barely touched each other. Goosebumps break out on Steve's arms and legs, like even his skin is reaching out for more contact.

Thor's cock juts against Steve’s thigh. A line of wetness signs itself on Steve’s skin. Steve shudders, digging fingers harder into Thor’s back. Their mouths fit together easily. Their breaths tangle together. Steve needs this in a way he's never needed anything before. Maybe he should care. He doesn't.

All it takes is one curious squeeze for Steve to see stars. His body bucks forward, and a strange, strangled sound fills the room. It takes Steve a moment to realize the reaction is from him. His throat aches.

Thor traces fingers down the curve of Steve's throat. He’s smiling, mismatched eyes somehow both looking bright and alive. “I’m going to take you to bed now,” he says.

A dazed laugh dribbles off Steve’s kiss-loosened lips. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “you do that.”

Steve feels drunk when Thor takes his hand. It’s his apartment, but Thor is the one who leads the way through the back hall to his bedroom. The space is nothing special, Steve hasn’t even hung anything on the walls in the years he's lived here. They stand surrounded by white paint, a blue-sheeted bed in the center.

Thor nuzzles Steve’s ear. “You know what I need,” he says.

Steve nearly trips over his feet to fetch the lubricant. He does know what Thor needs, which is crazy. He knows exactly what Thor is thinking even though they’ve never come close to doing this. It's like the culmination of something building for years. Steve is about to break out of his own skin.

Is some of it the hammer? All of it? Are the hammer and Thor wound together so tightly that there isn’t a difference?

Steve climbs onto his bed and Thor is quick to follow. Thor's grin is pure delight as he eases hands between Steve’s thighs. Steve's cock stands tall, balls hanging heavy while Thor stretches him open. Steve shifts, settling into the mattress. Thor’s gaze flicks from the view to Steve, cheeks bunched up with a new smile. “Not bad,” he praises.

Steve snorts. “Yeah, thanks.”

Steve doesn’t have the same teasing half-hearted praise for Thor. Not with Thor’s thick thighs kneeling or the way his belly settles on his legs. Thor's cock pushes against his stomach, already wet at the head with eager drops of precome.

Steve closes his eyes. With the absence of Thor’s skin, Steve squeezes the bed sheets instead.

“I would prefer your eyes open, actually.” When Steve looks, Thor is still smiling. “I like your eyes,” he says.

"Only my eyes?” Steve asks. He releases the sheets and squeezes a slow hand around himself.

Thor’s eyes flick downward immediately. “Among other things,” he mumbles.

He moves before Steve can return the wit, bowing between Steve’s thighs. With a huff, Thor snags Steve’s wrist and yanks Steve’s hand away from himself. Steve’s knuckles smack against the mattress, and he finds the head of his cock between Thor’s lips.

Thor's mouth is warm and slick. It takes every bit of Steve’s willpower not to jolt up into Thor's mouth. Steve’s head falls back with a groan. Thor’s lazy tongue glides over him with ease, collecting wetness from the slit.

As Thor suckles contentedly, a finger glossed in oil swipes between Steve’s legs. Steve can’t help but jump this time. He gasps, and his legs butterfly wider.

“Quite sensitive,” Thor mumbles.

Steve laughs breathlessly. “Yeah, it was - I think Tony said I should get out more - oh god.” The latter answers the coaxing touch around the crown of his hole. Thor’s hands are big, and his single index finger applies a decent amount of pressure already.

Steve shivers at the gush of more oil, of coolness meeting heated skin as Thor shapes him. Steve blows out a breath, eyes flickering between the ceiling and Thor’s bowed head. The ends of Thor’s hair tickle Steve’s thighs. They twitch wider when Thor lowers to kiss him.

“Well I say, perhaps you would have been better served to stay in more.” Thor grins at his own joke, which Steve should call him on. But Steve is too busy trying to adapt to two fingers now, not just one. His body is on fire, and his heart pounds in his chest. Steve finds his own hand curled next to his neck, rubbing the place where Thor’s hand was not long ago. By the darkness of Thor’s good eye, he remembers this too.

With licked lips, Thor gathers Steve’s cock back into his mouth. “Thor,” Steve protests - only, it isn’t much of a protest at all. Impatient feelings flutter through his belly while Thor’s head bobs around him. His hair swallows Steve’s hips, maddeningly ticklish. Steve tangles a hand in Thor’s hair. With his mouth full, Thor’s cheeks hollow, jaw slacked to take in Steve’s size. Steve’s stomach clenches at the scrape of Thor's knuckles inside. His cock jumps in Thor’s mouth. Thor purrs his approval.

“Thor,” Steve protests again, fingers scraped down Thor’s neck.

Thor pops free with a husked laugh. His lips are shiny and wet, almost as shiny as his good eye when he rolls an amused gaze upward.

“You must understand,” Thor says. “We cannot rush things, captain. You see, I am a god. I am the storm itself.” He talks like he’s speaking to a child. The tone does not match the three fingers thrust at a perfect angle between Steve's legs. Steve’s waist bounces off the mattress, and he bites his lip against a moan.

“You are the mightiest of this realm,” Thor continues soothingly. His fingers stroke and spread, as if Steve is a mound of clay. “Worthy in every sense. Worthy even of Mjolnir. But you are still mortal.” He kisses the dip of Steve’s hipbone.

“ _Thor_ ,” Steve hisses. When his hips pop off the bed again, his cock slaps audibly against his belly.

Thor’s laugh is low and husked. “You are,” he murmurs, “such weak, tiny creatures. I would never forgive myself for bringing you harm.” He thrusts his fingers again. This time, Steve can’t stop himself from moaning. Sensation grips him from all angles. He loses track of his thoughts, staring up at the ceiling, his throat choked with pleasure.

“Is this not better?” Thor asks. His fingers, buried deep, massage Steve with slow, coaxing strokes. Steve’s thighs shudder around Thor's wrist. His mouth moves without sound, hitched breaths catching on his open lips. “Won’t you be so grateful when I-”

“If you don’t fuck me already, I’m doing it myself,” Steve grits. Thor stills with surprise.

Moments later, through laughter, Thor nuzzles a kiss to Steve’s stomach. “Yes, of course.” Thor’s voice vibrates against Steve’s belly. “Of course, captain. Of course. Of course.” His hand withdraws, and Steve can finally breathe again.

Steve has to stretch his legs wider to fit Thor’s body between them. His knees cannot tuck neatly against Thor’s rounded sides. They splay out at odd angles so Thor’s girth can press to the backs of his legs. His belly is soft and warm against Steve’s cock. It sinks under Steve's hardness, stained with precome in seconds.

Thor gazes down at Steve, his smile small but anxious.

He takes it slow, but Steve still struggles to keep up. Thor is huge in every sense of the word. His cock is beyond thick, and pressure mounts through Steve’s core. Head swimming, Steve winds a hand around himself and squeezes. His knuckles, bridged around his own cock, leave pink circles against Thor’s abdomen.

With Thor at his deepest, Steve hoists himself up. It is an odd angle, but it lets Steve be close enough to rake fingers up Thor’s stomach. Thor’s breasts are invitingly soft, and Steve sucks the tip of one into his mouth. Thor groans, pleasure announced with a tight snap of his hips. At the tip of Thor’s swollen breast, his nipple pulls into a hard little bud.

Steve sucks and nibbles until Thor’s hips snap forward again. He slips off with a gasp. Then they’re moving, changing.

Steve finds himself on top, hands flat to Thor’s stomach. His knees stretch wide to accommodate the swell of Thor’s hips. Thor’s hands curl around Steve's waist, easing Steve down on him. Steve gasps, pink in the face. Thor’s eyes, real and fake, fix on him, enthralled.

With a lip between his teeth, Steve hoists himself up. He lowers slowly, and a groan shudders off his lips. He has to open his legs so wide to get Thor into him. The burn stretches through his thighs. Steve repeats the motion, fingers combing pink scratches into Thor’s skin.

Thor stares at him shamelessly. As Steve moves, Thor begins to touch himself. One hand returns to his own neck, the other to his chest. Thumb and forefinger pinch the nipple left wet by Steve’s mouth. A groan rumbles off Thor’s lips. Steve’s cock twitches in reply.

Steve isn’t sure what he’s overwhelmed by more: feeling Thor inside him, or watching how turned on Thor is. He’s caught up in the sensation of Thor’s skin between his thighs. Of pressure swelling deep. Of his own cock in his hand. Of Thor, staring up at him, lips parted in awe.

It’s too good to withstand for long. Thor is too much. It’s all too much.

Steve’s eyes close, and he twists towards the ceiling. A muted cry pulses past his bit lip. He nearly loses his balance, it all happens so fast. His head spins, and he trembles in deep places he can’t soothe. Pleasant soreness sings through his legs.

When Steve opens his eyes, he’s greeted by the sight of his cum staining Thor’s belly. Thor stares up from his back in wonder. His fingers play through the mess.

Without warning, Thor lashes out to grip Steve’s hips. Steve gasps when he’s hoisted down, his body still in the aftershock. Muscles twitching, Steve moans when Thor bucks into him so hard that their skin slaps. Thor’s release is like a flood of heat. Steve's head feels light, body warm and wet all over.

“Yes,” Thor sighs. The ‘s’ drags out in lazy satisfaction. He squeezes Steve’s waist and reminds Steve of the ache settling into his hips.

Steve doesn't want to move. But he has to.

With a grunt, Steve manages to hoist himself up. The wet feel of Thor’s cock leaving him makes him shiver.

Moist between his thighs, somehow both empty and full at once, Steve collapses to the side. He groans, disrupting the blonde hair fanned in Harlequin-novel fashion about Thor's shoulder.

Thor smears a drowsy kiss against his brow. He’s returned to scritching a pleased hand through the mess of Steve's cum on his belly. Steve smiles against Thor’s skin. “So, is this hammer thing a one time deal or what?”

“I’m not sure,” Thor says. “It’s been said,” he pauses for a large yawn, “that its power amplifies with time. But I’ve never known one to wield it outside of my own family. This is quite new territory.”

“Well that’s neat.” Steve's eyelids sit heavy as soreness purrs through his body. When Thor lets out another gusting yawn, Steve gives up on keeping his eyes open.

“It may tie us together through the end of our days.” Thor's voice takes on a sleepy slur. “Who could have imagined?”

“Mmhm,” Steve agrees, already half-asleep.

He must be pretty satisfied, because the thought of a hammer-bound alien soulmate doesn’t sound so bad at all.

*The End*


End file.
